Unexpected Occurences
by SiuanSedai
Summary: Some things an Aes Sedai should do and some things an Aes Sedai certainly should not. But Moiraine has never paid much attention to the confines of should and should not. Moiraine x Rand. Written for 5drunkfics livejournal challenge.
1. Tipsy

Last July I claimed Moiraine/Rand at 5drunkfics. The point of the challenge was to write 5 fics or chapters involving those characters in various states of inebriation. I've kept them as much in character as I can, but... take it as a slightly bizarre AU and you might not be so horrified. If I told you how difficult I find Moiraine to write, she'd tell me off for language. Anyway, enjoy :)

**Prompt 1: Tipsy**

If there was one thing Rand al'Thor had never thought he would find himself doing, it would be sitting in an inn in a city mak

If there was one thing Rand al'Thor had never thought he would find himself doing, it would be sitting in an inn in a city making awkward conversation with an Aes Sedai after doing battle with Trollocs.

But here he was. Baerlon, the biggest city he'd ever been in. In fact, the only city he'd ever been in – much as he and every other boy in the Two Rivers dreamed of going adventuring, he'd never been more than a few miles from home.

Trollocs and Fades. Tales and myths used to frighten children. Or so Rand had thought, until they tried to kill him. He thought back on the other stories. There were worse things than Fades: Aes Sedai who'd turned to the Dark One – the Forsaken. But the Forsaken – Asmodean, Ishamael, Lanfear and the others – were bound in Shayol Ghul with the Dark One. Everyone knew that, it was a fact. A fact which didn't stop Rand looking fearfully at Moiraine for a moment.

All the tales said that Lanfear was stunningly beautiful. Moiraine's hair fell in loose curls down to her shoulders, framing a porcelain face that gave her more presence than her small frame would bring one to expect. Her eyes, like her hair, were dark, and at first glance were open and guileless. But she was Aes Sedai – those brown, almost black orbs that appeared to be windows to her soul undoubtedly shielded manipulations and plots. Maybe they shielded a darker, hidden identity as well.

Rand realised he was staring into her eyes, and also realised he was being stupid. She wouldn't have dragged he, Perrin and Mat away from the clutches of the Trollocs if she was Lanfear – who was bound in Shayol Ghul anyway – and she wasn't a Darkfriend. Not by the vehemence he had heard behind the curses she hadn't realised he heard her speak. Rand hadn't even heard half of the rude expressions that had flowed from her mouth before, but he was able to catch the general gist.

Moiraine looked amused. Rand flushed when he realised he was still gazing into her eyes and looked away. Her eyes stayed fixated on him; he looked back at her, and she looked away, a satisfied gleam in her eyes that meant for some strange reason – probably involving her ego - only understood by women, she'd wanted him to return his attention to her. _Bloody Aes Sedai with their tricks_, he mentally grumbled.

"You should go to bed," Moiraine told him a moment later. Rand stared at her, thoughts – forbidden thoughts, he couldn't think that sort of thing about an Aes Sedai – running through his mind. Moiraine inwardly smirked, correctly guessing what he was thinking. "We have an early start tomorrow, you don't want to be too exhausted." Rand couldn't stop the blood rushing to his cheeks – and other places too – and he walked out of the room. _Damn Aes Sedai playing her stupid games with me_, he thought crossly. _Why can't she stop acting like a normal woman and more like a Tar Valon witch? Or are all women like that?_

Moiraine smiled to herself. She loved messing with men's minds, hinting and never giving anything more than suggestion. Of course, it did get rather tedious and a bit lonely, but the fun of manipulation was a fairly good substitute.

She wasn't quite sure why she decided to pick Rand al'Thor, though. She looked contemplatively at the empty bottle of brandy that lay on the table. Maybe the fact that they'd both had more than enough of the alcohol had something to do with it.

--

Rand dunked his head in the barrel of cold water in the inn yard. He needed to clear his head. It ached and he never wanted to drink brandy again – why had he been so stubborn and refuse to let Moiraine out-drink him? She was Aes Sedai, she was obviously immune to the effects of alcohol. _Bloody Aes Sedai_, he muttered. He needed a drink.

Five pints of ale later, and the clarity of thought Rand had regained by immersing his head in freezing water had gone. He stumbled up the stairs and fumbled with the doorknob, then pushed the door open. He kicked off his boots and pulled his shirt over his head and sank down onto the bed.

Rand yelped in surprise when a warm body rolled over and leant on him.

"I believe you are in the wrong room, Mr al'Thor," Moiraine said silkily. Rand stuttered an apology and went to get up, but couldn't. Moiraine remained where she was, sprawled across his chest.

Moiraine reached out in a lazy, catlike movement and touched his face, her fingers gently caressing the short, soft beard he hadn't had a chance to shave off since leaving Emond's Field. She wriggled, moving up his body so that her face was scant inches from him. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moved to kiss him, then stopped.

Rand made a noise of protest as she moved away.

"We would regret this in the morning, Rand," Moiraine said softly. _I__ would regret this in the morning_, she corrected herself mentally. "We've both had a bit much to drink." _And I intend to find a reason – an excuse – for lusting after you. Being ta'veren is not a good enough explanation for why you made me nearly drop the games I've played at for years… I hate alcohol._


	2. Drunk

I'm still vaguely scared that I wrote this. Again, sorry for bizarreness :)

**Prompt #2: Drunk**

So he and Egwene weren't meant to be together. Rand wasn't sure how he felt about that. Whenever he thought about women and the future, he'd always assumed that he and Egwene would marry. Everyone had expected them to, and Rand knew that Egwene did too.

Even when Moiraine took he, Perrin and Mat away from Emond's Field, Egwene had come too. Rand didn't know when he'd get back home – or if he ever would, although he didn't like to dwell on that unpleasant possibility – but Egwene had been with him and so their relationship had remained constant.

But Min had said that he and Egwene would never be together. Rand didn't know what to think, especially when he heard her muttering to herself about how he was sure to get a swelled ego from having three women love him. He wondered who the three would be, ruling out all the girls he had known back in the Two Rivers – the only women he otherwise knew were Min, Nynaeve and Moiraine. He couldn't see Min behaving like a love-struck girl any time soon – he had a hard time imagining her behaving like a girl at all. The thought of a romantic relationship with Nynaeve made his stomach turn; the fact that she was, in reality, rather pretty, was most definitely overshadowed by the number of times she'd told Tam to switch him thoroughly. He wanted a wife, not a boss.

_Which is why you almost kissed Moiraine last night, isn't it,_ his treacherous mind said sarcastically. _What? I don't want to marry her! Light, she's a bloody Aes Sedai!_

"What's the matter with you?" Perrin asked, seeing the horror on Rand's face.

"Huh? Oh – nothing," Rand muttered. "I need a drink." Perrin shoved the mug of ale into his hand. "Thanks."

--

Moiraine stared down into the glass of wine gripped tightly in her long, slender fingers. What in the Light had she been thinking last night? An abundance of brandy was _not_ enough reason to suddenly develop an attraction to a man fifteen years younger than her – barely an adult – who happened to be the _Dragon Reborn_? Moiraine was not the sort of woman who had ever lost her head over a man. She did not let herself get swept away by the charms of a man, _ever_. Not that Rand al'Thor was well versed in the art of seduction; Moiraine doubted that he'd ever lain with a woman. So letting her thoughts – and very nearly her actions – run away without her consent was not something she enjoyed.

Except for the time he was in her bed. Light, that sounded wrong, but it was true. She'd been very content with that situation. When Rand had stumbled into her bed, she'd instinctively rolled onto him to prevent him from leaving. She'd had every intention of seducing him, and her mind had been perfectly happy to let her body take control. Then, of course, she'd realised that she was well on her way to being drunk and decided that she was going to regain her role as pussycat in the flirting game of cat and mouse.

Moiraine wasn't fooling herself. She knew she wanted Rand. She didn't know whether or not he was horrified at what they'd nearly done last night – she could just imagine him thinking 'but she's a bloody _Aes Sedai_!' – but she was going to enjoy the game of seduction before she enjoyed the prize. Moiraine didn't jump into a man's bed when she wanted him. Half the fun was dangling him on a string of hope until he was practically kneeling by her bed, begging. She didn't play mouse. Moiraine Sedai was most definitely all pussycat.

--

When Moiraine's door opened later that evening, she realised that it was too late to play games. Rand pushed the door shut and came over to where she was leaning elegantly against the dressing table, her silk robe only loosely tied and exposing much of her breasts.

The look in his eyes was rather refreshing. It had been a long time since Moiraine had seen a gaze that spoke of lustful intent directed at her. Not that men didn't look at her with desire, because they did – her aloofness simply discouraged their actual intents.

"You're drunk," she told him, although she made no effort to push him away when he stepped close to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I do not wish for you to despise me tomorrow, Rand." It was a pity she could smell beer faintly. If she couldn't, she'd be perfectly happy to have her wicked way with him.

"You'd be happy with this if I were sober?" he questioned. Moiraine nodded. Although he probably didn't realise it, Rand was very attractive. His muscled arms and chest were at counterpoint to his gentle face and Moiraine suspected from the size of his feet that his muscles weren't the only large part of his anatomy. _I think you've had a little too much wine yourself, Moiraine,_ she scolded herself in exasperation.

"Maybe another night," she said, refusing to let regret creep into her voice. She wasn't _that_ swept away by lust. Rand chuckled sheepishly.

"Did I mention I'm not actually drunk?" he said. Moiraine rolled her eyes.

"I can smell beer, Rand," she pointed out. She wasn't completely stupid.

"Perrin poured it down my shirt," he admitted. Moiraine's eyes left his and examined his shirt. Sure enough there was a wet stain running down one side of the cloth.

"Well, in that case…" she grabbed his collar and pulled his mouth down to hers. When she released him, she smirked up at him. "Let me help you out of that shirt."


	3. Mistake

Thanks so much for the reviews :) Here's **prompt 3 - Mistake**

Moiraine never thinks very much about consequences when she's drunk. Not as much as usual, anyway, alhough she's still a much more analytical drunk than most.

Errors in judgement – mistakes – are easy to make when inebriated. So as Moiraine runs a hand absentmindedly through Rand's hair as he kneels on the floor retching from the effect that reaching tainted saidin has on his semi-inebriated body, she thinks wryly that their positions really should be the other way round.

Because Moiraine has made the mother, father and possibly Creator of all mistakes. She still can't believe that she let a bottle of Aiel vintage wine distract her from reason so much that she forgot to weave saidar around herself for protection against unpleasant surprises.

She can't actually bring herself to consider this unpleasant, though. And she certainly can't consider it a mistake. Moiraine isn't an overly sentimental woman and never will be, but she still feels a warm fuzzy feeling when she's alone and she can rest her hand on her belly and feel the slight roundness that's developing.

She hasn't told Rand. She hasn't told anyone, not even Lan, who she'd tell before Rand if she was going to tell anyone. She hasn't worked out the logistics of having this baby – she needs to stay by Rand's side to guide him, otherwise he'll end up accidentally destroying the world, but how is she supposed to do that while bearing his child?

The Dragon Reborn's child. Moiraine shivers slightly, even as she feels a pang of love for this unplanned baby which the White Tower will certainly consider a terrible mistake. Maybe they'll decide to still her for it, if they find out. She doesn't plan on letting them know.

Moiraine knows that she made a massive error in judgement, or more simply put didn't use her judgement at all. But however many hours she spends pondering the possible consequences, and however many bad ones she thinks of, she can't bring herself to consider it a mistake.


	4. Confession

If this seems a little weird, that could be because I wrote half of it in August and half of it four days ago. It also didn't help that my keyboard stopped working and I had to copy/paste every single f. I never realised f was in so many words... lol.

**Prompt 4: Confessions**

It's a cold night. Even curled up catlike under a thick feather duvet, Moiraine can't shake the chill from her toes or her feet, and she's too exhausted to use saidar to warm herself. It's a mark of how much energy concealing the bump of her stomach takes, because conjuring a flame is the first thing novices learn when they begin their training. Simply making herself appear flat-stomached would be simple enough, but Moiraine has to distort the space around her because in all the bustle and vigour of Cairhien someone would be sure to walk into her and realise.

Moiraine suddenly realises that she feels lonely. It's an odd sensation, and one that she doesn't welcome because it means she's grown attached to Rand. She shouldn't have done. But then again, she shouldn't be in this situation anyway. Shouldn't.

Moiraine has never been a loyal follower of the word 'shouldn't'. Enslaved instead to 'must', the dictations of custom and tradition and what passes for common sense have always come second best. But there was no 'must' about her sharing a bed with Rand al'Thor; 'must not' would be the closest appropriate phrase.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ She berates herself angrily, wishing against all possibility for the Wheel to turn backwards and to send another Aes Sedai to the Two Rivers instead of her… but she can't convince herself that she truly wants that. Not out of jealousy: Moiraine isn't an insecure teenager. She knows full well that had she and Siuan's places been changed, had she been the Amyrlin and Siuan set out to find the Dragon Reborn, Siuan and Rand wouldn't have become any closer than Healing required. If Moiraine hadn't got herself into this situation, no one would have done so in her stead. She knows that, and it makes her glad.

She's being sentimental. She tells herself she's being ridiculous. She tells herself that her interactions with the Dragon Reborn are nobody else's business. She tells herself that those 'interactions' aren't anything special. But the word makes her wince inside, and she wishes she could put the thought out of her head that 'relationship' would be a better fit in the sentence.

They _don't_ have a relationship, Moiraine tells herself strongly. All that happened is that they slept together, and she was stupid enough to forget to use _saidar_ to stop this from happening.

"What's happening?" Moiraine jerks upright, the blanket falling into her lap to reveal the pronounced curve of her stomach. Rand stares. He's shocked. For once in her life, Moiraine doesn't know what to say. There _isn't_ anything to say. He knows, now, and he knows that she wasn't planning on telling him any time soon. If she'd been going to tell him, she would have done already.

"You should have told me," Rand says, his voice accusing. Moiraine nods. She should have. But Moiraine never has never been in the habit of paying tribute to 'should'.


	5. Forget

Here it is, la finite. Thanks for reviewing! :)

**Prompt 5: Forget**

"Don't tell anyone," she asks him. His face falls. Like any man presented with fatherhood for the first time, he wants to spread the news to everyone he knows. But she knows how much more he will hurt in the days to come if he proclaims it far and wide.

He will never forgive her for what she is going to do. She knows that and she has made her peace with that knowledge. It is something she must do. _Should_ she? Moiraine doesn't know. Most, if not all, would say she should never even contemplate what she is planning. But few people have her trait of seeing the whole picture.

She doesn't know what she _should_ do. But she knows what she _must_ do, and duty has always come first. Especially to protect the man she loves.

Yes, she loves him. Moiraine finally allows herself to admit it – if only to herself. There is such a short time remaining that she can't be bothered denying it any more. She certainly isn't going to go to Rand's rooms and proclaim it, but to know it herself is enough.

She wishes she could do what Rand is undoubtedly doing: getting thoroughly drunk. The wine served at Cairhien is excellent and he needs the relaxation before the upcoming battle. But even though it won't matter much longer, Moiraine won't indulge herself and do anything to risk the child that lives within her.

_Morals, Moiraine?_ a mocking voice asks her. It's the nasty little voice inside her head that has baited her for years; it's the unpleasant little voice that many would call her conscience. Moiraine doesn't often pander to its whims and she refuses to let this time be an exception. _The end justifies_ the means, she tells herself. And she can almost make herself believe it – enough to go through with her plan, in any case.

--

Lanfear will destroy him. Moiraine knows this as well as she knows that a little of that wine would have given her the courage to do this. Now that the time has come, she can't bring herself to do what she had intended.

Rand is on his knees under the weight of _saidar _that Lanfear wreaks upon him; Moiraine can almost see the fight ebb out of him as he loses his connection to _saidin_. Everyone is looking; everyone is staring as the Dragon Reborn is slowly defeated.

Moiraine doesn't know what she's doing; she's running towards Lanfear with nothing running through her mind but the intention of protecting the father of her child. Lanfear sees her out of the corner of her eye and a whirl of _saidar _Moiraine is catapulted through the air to land in a crumpled heap on the ground.

_Light, Rand, don't bloody come over here! Defeat her while she's distracted,_ Moiraine thinks in frustration, and the little voice tells her that had anyone else said that, she'd have scolded them for their language.

It's almost as if Rand got the message, because he clenches his fists and a sickened look appears on his face – sure signs that he's trying to reach past the taint on _saidin_. But something feels wrong, and for a moment Moiraine can't work out what it is. And then she realises that the constant taint, the one that let her know her baby would wield _saidin_, is gone.

Lanfear has taken away from many. She killed and tortured and helped to destroy the Dragon thousands of years ago, and now she has surpassed the line where Moiraine can let Rand deal with her. She needs to destroy Lanfear herself. She needs to avenge her son.

They are through the _ter'angreal_ before the little voice has even had time to comment.

--

Rand can't forgive her. How could she let their child die in the _ter'angreal_? He doesn't know that it died just moments earlier. No one does; not even Lan, the only other who would ever know.

Rand understands now. He understands why she told him it would be better if he forgot. But he can't forget. Just as he can't forget his upbringing in the Two Rivers – if he forgot that, he'd go mad – he can't forget her.

Stuck in a circle of regret and sadness and anger, all he can do is down another pint of ale and hope that maybe, just maybe, that will make him forget. But it won't, and he knows it.

Can't forgive, and can't forget. No one knows what unbalanced the Dragon Reborn so, and no one ever will. No one except a single Aes Sedai watching him from the other side of a _ter'angreal_ and hoping that one day she will find a way free.

* * *

The end! I hope you liked it :)


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